Deadly Silence (Blood Brothers #1)(26)

“I can live with that,” he said evenly.

She opened her mouth to let him have it when a hard knock sounded on the door.

Ryker strode past her, brushing her with heat. “What?”

“Have the car up on the lift,” said a deep, very deep, voice.

Ryker opened the door and moved aside. “Zara, this is Denver.”

Zara walked toward a man every bit as big as Ryker. This one had black hair and deep blue eyes, flecked with gold, that revealed absolutely nothing. A scar along his jaw gave him the look of a battle-worn soldier. He wore a ripped T-shirt and frayed jeans. Man, she wished she wasn’t half covered in mud at the moment. She held out her hand. “Hello.”

He finished wiping his hands on an oil-covered rag and then gently took hers. “Hi.”

She nodded, noting a scar across his palm. One just like Ryker’s.

Denver released her and shoved the rag into his back pocket. “Bad brake lines.”

“How bad?” Ryker prodded.

“Worn and leaking.” Denver glanced at her. “Really worn.”

Well, geez. It wasn’t like she’d had time or money to hit a mechanic’s. “I’d noticed the brakes were getting tougher to use, and I thought to get the car into the shop next week.” Relief, the full and blooming kind, whipped through her. She’d almost subscribed to Ryker’s goofy notion that somebody had tried to harm her.

Ryker’s expression didn’t change. “Any chance somebody did it deliberately?”

Denver shrugged.

Ryker kept still. “If I wanted to sabotage somebody, and their brake lines were that bad, then it’d be easy to use a wire sponge and finish the job. Hell, even sandpaper might’ve worked with worn brakes.”

She shook her head. “Nobody wants me dead.”

Ryker ran a knuckle across the barely there bruise on her face. “Uh-huh.”

Her knees wobbled. One little touch, and he sent her body into overdrive. She should panic, but instead, she wanted to crawl up onto him and plaster herself to his hard body. Man, she needed a vacation.

Denver cleared his throat. “I doubt it.”

Ryker’s lips pressed together, his patience obviously dwindling. “I need more, Den. I’m having trouble interpreting your meaning right now with the monosyllables.”

Denver glanced down at the floor and steeled his shoulders. “As a means of harming somebody, especially on such a small hill, it sucks. My guess is that the brakes were just worn down.” He looked at Zara, his words rushed. “It’d be easier to just shoot the car from the hillside.” He sucked in air as he finished speaking.

“Yet we’re not sure if anybody did anything,” Ryker rumbled, clapping his brother on the back as if in support. “So if they wanted to stay under the radar, they have.”

What were these odd undercurrents? Zara shook her head. “My engine went out six months ago, and the transmission was next. The mechanic told me the brakes were bad, but—”

“But what?” Ryker asked, way too softly.

Denver looked from Ryker to Zara and back, his gaze contemplative.

A ruckus came from outside the door. “Hey. Why is there a piece-of-shit car up on the lift?” A guy wearing a black coat loped into the hallway, his greenish brown eyes sizzling and his brown hair shaggy across his collar. “Oh. Hi.”

Denver jerked his head toward Zara and lifted his eyebrows.

Ryker nudged Denver in the ribs with an elbow and then stepped aside. “Zara, this is Heath.”

They shook hands. Another scar. Zara ran her finger along it as he drew away. Interesting.

“The car is Zara’s,” Denver explained, his gaze not leaving hers, a smile tickling his lips.

“Oh. Sorry about the ‘piece-of-shit’ description,” Heath said, also not looking away.

She nodded, trying very hard not to feel like a bug under a microscope. The men watched her, studying her, their gazes more than a little curious.

“Stop looking at her like that,” Ryker snapped.

Denver looked at Heath and shrugged.

Heath smiled. “Like what, brother?” he drawled.

Ryker coughed. “Like we’re back in high school and a pretty girl has dropped by.”

He’d just called her pretty in front of his brothers. Zara fought the insane urge to preen like a teenager.

Denver snorted.

Heath nodded. “Like we ever went to high school.” He traded smiles with Denver.

Ryker’s sigh was full of suffering. “Heath, why are you dressed up?” He looked down at Heath’s boots. “With boots again? I told you to get shoes.”

Heath shrugged. “I had to do a local sign-in with three other new attorneys and meet the judges, which was a pain in the ass. I haven’t had time to get shoes.”

“You’re an attorney?” Zara asked.

“Just got sworn in yesterday,” Heath said, his tone bland.

Zara kept still, her mind spinning. “And the three of you own a business?”

The other two men finally stopped looking at her and turned their attention toward Ryker, obviously giving him the chance to reply.

He nodded. “Yes. I’ll tell you about it later.”

More secrets. Zara frowned. “Why did you guys move into town?” So much wasn’t adding up, and maybe the two men now shuffling their feet would tell her more than Ryker ever had. Although, that was all sorts of screwed up. Now she felt like she was back in high school, playing it coy. That wouldn’t do at all.